and then, it is over
by stilessttilinski
Summary: And as the empty body falls to the floor, he can be. - - Harry, Voldemort - for all the Potterheads.


**a/n: the last Harry Potter trailer came out today.  
>honestly, i'm crying. it's the end of an era – there'll be no more movies, no more trailers, no more Golden Trio. the one thing i'll have left is fanfiction, and everything hurts.<strong>

**i'm happy, but everything hurts. it makes me so sad that i'll never see anyone fangirling on tumblr for the new movie or crying at gifs from the trailers. i'll never see new pictures and graphics and i honestly, i won't know what to do when it's over. i know i'll cry when it's over – Harry Potter's been with me my entire life, and i know i can reread the books and re-watch the movies, but it just won't be the same.**

**Harry Potter will be with me forever – helping me along in life, teaching me about true bravery and cowardice and friendship, and it really means the world to me.**

**Dedicated to all Potterheads.**

**disclaimer; J.K. Rowling ©**

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><p><em>and then, suddenly, he realises it's almost over.<em>

He's holding the wand in between his fingers and staring directly in the face of the man – _no, monster_ – that's been hunting him down his whole life.

"_Expelliarmus_!" he shouts with the hope of a renewed angel, hearing the monster before him yell as well.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ Only the older man shouts with a voice laced of desperation, with a backdrop the sound of his last hope. He masquerades it well with a forced anger, a forced triumph. The dazzling display before them flashes bright green, vivid red, fighting for the dominance of whoever will _win_.

Harry turns his head and meets the eyes of Ginny, who has the look of fierce calm on her face as she nods at him – of Hermione, who has tear tracks running down her face, letting herself be clutched by Ron – of Ron himself, who sets his jaw and believes – of Molly, who has that once-lost look of hope blazing in her eyes – and then he meets the eyes of everyone, _everyone_ in this destroyed school.

Then there is silence in his head, and everyone's mouths are moving around him, shouting words of encouragement, but he can only see the inferno of red and green almost beautifully displayed in the Hall, the lights reflecting in the emerald of his eyes.

And then he remembers. The faces of Colin Creevey and Remus and Tonks and Mad-Eye and Fred and Sirius and his mum, and his father, and the obsidian faces of the unknown who have all died fighting for this very cause. The faces of the men and women in the First Order – all the people who'd sacrificed their lives to stop this man – this man that kills and tortures and knows nothing of the feeling _love_, the man that is practically pitiable.

Harry pities him. He pities this – this cheap imitation of a man, this creature who's been mutated and destroyed so potently.

He raises his wand fractionally higher, feeling his jaw clench as the faces of his friends, of his family ghost over his mind. He feels the great momentary happiness inside him, pushing against his chest, filling his soul with the true feeling of love. The delicate spider web spins its way in his heart, memories filling him.

And then he watches as the dazzling red light coming from his own wand shines brighter than the green, the colour overpowering the neon green, exploding largely into the lessening space between the lights and Voldemort.

Harry sees the slight widening of Tom Riddle's glowing eyes, the almost-cry that spills from his lips and he sees the black, dead soul within the monster dissipating, leaving only a cold empty body that falls gracefully to the floor.

There is a second long silence as the bevy of students, teachers, and whoever else stare in silence before they come running – everyone comes running.

And all of sudden he is surrounded by warmth, by people who love him in a way that fills him with heat and happiness, and all the while he can only feel hands reaching to touch him and faces filled of glorious relief and hope. He hears the joyfulness and liveliness and merriment of the moment as they sob with bliss and the sun rises beatifically above them.

There is a moment of complete serenity as the crowds of people embrace him and enfold them in their arms and he finally knows he is not alone.

_and then it is over – all of it. he needs not hear the screeches of the dead nor be afraid to read the newspaper. he does not need to worry for the lives of his friends (his family). he will never again feel the sudden spiking feeling of the wretched scar on his forehead – the one that has grown to be a part of him._

_it is over._

_he can be._

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><p><strong>an: hell if i know what this is. i'm honestly just in a sentimental mood.**

**Harry Potter is so important to me. it's something i can count on and i know it'll always be there, waiting for me to learn and experience all over again.**

**Harry Potter is something I'll hold close to my heart, forever and always.**

**please, don't favourite without reviewing.**


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